Maybe This Christmas
by ExLibris3
Summary: Maybe this Christmas will hold something special for Jenny and Gibbs. A Jibbs Christmas story.


_A/N: So, here's a Jibbs Christmas story! Set to the song Maybe This Christmas By Ron Sexsmith. I hope you enjoy it! Please review, it's Christmas ;) Merry Christmas!!_

**Maybe This Christmas**

_Maybe this Christmas will mean something more  
Maybe this year  
Love will appear  
Deeper than ever before_

She looked out the window. White, fluffy snowflakes whirling through the black night outside. Tapping lightly against the windowpane. In one corner a fire spread its warm light, and in another a Christmas tree sparkled with dimly lit twinkle lights. The air was still in the silence of her study.

Jenny Shepard was hanging up the last of her mother's old Christmas ornaments in the Christmas tree. In her hand was a glass with some bourbon left at the bottom. She took a step back and admired the way the red and golden balls glimmered in the Christmas tree lights. She turned toward the window and looked out at the snow softly falling. Her gaze falling on the unopened bottle of bourbon standing on her desk. Around the neck of the bottle a bow was tied, holding a card. She read it again for what was probably the fifth time.

_Merry Christmas Jen_

_-Jethro_

She caressed his name written in the handwriting of his, and thought about him.

The candles on top of the mantelpiece flickered slightly, and she still stood with the card in her hand, dreaming about a time lost long ago. Christmases long lost. The Christmases when she had had someone to exchange presents with in front of a sparkling Christmas tree. The Christmases when she'd had someone to laugh with, to share an intimate Christmas dinner with. The Christmases when she'd been a child and her parents would sit together on the couch with happy smiles on their faces and watch her tear open her presents. When her mother would cook a delicious Christmas dinner and the smell of it would spread through the whole house. The Christmases when she wasn't alone.

She'd spend too many Christmases alone, especially these past couple of years. Even though she decorated her house – though Noemi did most of the job – but Jen didn't mind. Though she was starting to doubt if it was at all worth the trouble. She was always alone. Sometimes she liked it, no big fuss about it and no preparations for dinners. But the loneliness was beginning to tear at her, she started longing to wake up next to someone on Christmas day, see him smile warmly at her as he handed her a Christmas present. It was a mild shock when she realized who she was picturing waking up next to.

She looked at the bottle of Bourbon again – surely it wasn't _that_ surprising that it was Gibbs that was in her thoughts, what did surprise her, and quite frankly, worried her a bit, was that he seemed to be in her mind almost constantly these days.

She downed the rest of the bourbon and placed the glass carefully onto her desk. It was time. She had a little tradition and it was time to get going. Slipping on her red coat and wrapping a dark green shawl around her neck, the red hair sticking up from under it.

_And maybe forgiveness will ask us to call  
Someone we've loved  
Someone we've lost  
For reasons we can't quite recall  
Maybe this Christmas_

Though, when she pulled the door open, she hadn't quite expected to find Leroy Jethro Gibbs standing on her doorstep, hand raised to the doorbell. She blinked, twice, and he smiled.

"I know you can read my mind, but when did you turn into a psychic?" He joked and tilted his head. She pursed her lips into a small smile, but did not answer.

"You going somewhere?" he asked when he registered what she was wearing.

"No, my house is just so cold I have to wear a coat inside." She said sarcastically and flicked the light switch. She bit her lip, wondering if she should invite him or not. He saved her the trouble of deciding.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I was just… going out for a walk." She lied.

He tilted his head and studied her carefully.

"Let's say I buy that, would you like some company?"

She considered that for a moment. She knew she had someplace to go, but she figured it'd be easier to just take a walk and then do what she had to do on her way home, rather than inviting him in right away.

"Why not?" She gave in and he smiled as she motioned for him to step back so she could step out and lock the door behind herself.

She felt the soft, large snowflakes fall over her, melting on her cheeks and she knew they'd be rosy in no time. She shivered slightly, not yet accustomed to the low temperature, and they started walking at a slow pace, side by side.

"Want to go buy coffee?" he proposed and she nodded; only just now realizing how stupid it had been to leave her gloves inside.

"Sure." She answered, thinking she could use the cup to warm her hands around. She hoped he wouldn't notice her shivering, but maybe that was too much to hope for. Nothing did get past him.

"You cold Jen?" He asked, shooting her a glance.

"Little bit." She mumbled. He moved closer and wrapped his arm around her, effectively pulling her into him. A part of her knew she should not allow this, part of her just wanted to cuddle closer to him, and the latter part inevitably won out, his warmth was too inviting, his scent too good and his hand resting casually, but slightly possessively at her waist distracted her too much from thoughts of why this was a bad idea. His arm tightened slightly when she didn't pull away, as though he knew he had his permission.

He glanced down as he felt her head against his shoulder, and he saw a sheet of silky red hair cascading over her shoulders, snowflakes glistening in it like diamonds. Her face was pale with roses on her cheeks, lips painted faint red and curled up in a small smile and he couldn't help but to think about how beautiful she was.

"Why were you coming over to my place?" She suddenly asked, a question that had been going through her mind for a while now and that he knew she'd eventually ask.

He stayed silent and contemplated his answer for a brief moment. If he was honest, he wasn't sure what had brought him to her place. It could have been because it was Christmas and he knew he was lonely and she was too. It could have been because of the dinners they had shared in her office recently, discussing cases, had made him realize how much he missed her company. He really wasn't sure, but whatever the reason, he knew he'd made the right choice.

"Didn't want to have coffee alone." He finally answered and she laughed and tilted her head to look up at him. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I don't buy that." She retorted and looked at him expectantly. He let his gaze sweep the snow-covered houses and cars and trees. They were the only ones out walking.

"Suit yourself." He replied. She continued to look at him, knowing he wasn't being honest with her, but the way he had so quickly wrapped his arm around her and the way he was holding her now told her what he was afraid to say. She placed her head back onto his shoulder and sighed quietly.

"It's been a long time." She spoke after a moment of serene silence. "Us. Together outside of the office."

"Paris." He said, staring out into the increasing snowfall and appearing lost in a memory. "Remember that Christmas we spent there?"

She smiled at the fond memory.

"I still carry that knife you gave me." She said and he was both happy and a little surprised to hear this. "Rule number nine, isn't it?"

"Yeah it is." He said back and paused. "But I don't have that bottle of bourbon you gave me left." He said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Oh I know, I remember well when we drank it."

They silenced, both lost in the same memory, but their own individual versions of it. He remembered licking the liquid off her naked stomach. She was thinking about how much she remembered loving tasting the bourbon in his mouth when she kissed him.

Still very aware of his arm tightly wrapped around her, and knowing she should put a little more distance between them, only it felt so good to be near him. She felt safe and warm and simply at peace. Which were three feelings she hadn't felt in a long time. _Well, it's only Christmas once a year…_ She thought and ignored the little voice telling her why this was a spectacularly bad idea.

They entered the nearly empty coffee shop, considering what day and time it was, not that many people had gone out to get coffee. Jen, partly reluctantly, partly relieved, pulled away from him as he ordered for both of them.

When they exited with a coffee cup each, Jen came close to slipping on the icy steps, and she would have hit the ground hard if it hadn't been for Gibbs quick reaction. Just as she lost her balance and thought she'd surely fall onto the hard cold ground and look anything but the classy lady she was, a strong arm caught her around the waist and she found herself pressed to Gibbs chest. She was barely aware of what had happened, all she was aware of was Gibbs's piercing blue eyes sparkling in the light from a street light – looking straight into her green ones, his breath hot against her face. Her hand had instinctively flown up to rest lightly on his chest, and she felt his chest heave with every heavy breath he took.

"You ok?" He asked, his voice low and tinged with something that could be concern.

"Yeah…fine." She mumbled, and awkwardly stepped away. The moment had been slightly too intense, their closeness slightly too intimate and the surge of electricity that went through her body slightly too hot. She hated herself for feeling this way, especially since she knew she couldn't do anything about it.

His coffee had remained in the cup, but hers was spilled onto the steps. She bent down to pick up the empty cup to throw it in the trash.

"I'll get you another one." He offered and before she could say he didn't have to, he'd stepped back inside.

She followed, and refused to look at him as he paid, instead letting her gaze sweep the small coffee shop. Only two tables were occupied – an elderly man at the table next to the door and two women at a window table to Jen's left. None of them seemed to pay any attention to her and Gibbs, though she was sure the man had looked at her with some recognition. Well, she was the first female director of an armed federal agency, and especially in this part of Washington people would surely recognize her.

She took in the Christmas decorations. A Christmas tree next to the desk. Garlands and sparkling lights on walls and across the ceiling. A wreath on the door.

_Thank God I can't see any of those mistletoes. _She thought as Gibbs walked back to her and handed her a new cup of coffee.

"Thank you." She mumbled, closing her fingers around the cup, but not moving to leave.

"You're welcome." Gibbs replied, standing just a little bit to close for her liking. Or, rather, she did like it, the closeness, actually the problem was that she enjoyed it a little too much.

They heard the clerk clear her throat behind them. Jen looked over her shoulder at the grinning woman, who was pointing at a spot somewhere above their heads.

"Look where you are standing."

_Oh crap_ Now she knew the reason she hadn't seen any mistletoes, that's because she was standing right underneath one. And so was Gibbs. She didn't even need to look up to know that there was one of those damned things dangling above her head.

In the corner of her eye she saw Gibbs' gaze shift upwards, saw him smile and felt him shift slightly close to her. She immediately put her hand to his chest, stopping his advance.

"Two people meeting under a hanging of mistletoe are obliged to kiss. It's tradition." The clerk's amused voice reached Jen's ears. Jen felt the strangest urge to keelhaul the poor woman. Yes, she was well aware of the traditions, she just couldn't believe she had chosen to stand under the only damn sprig of mistletoe in the entire coffee shop. _What genius chose to hang the damn thing right above the middle of the floor? _She wondered to herself, and being too preoccupied with her annoyance at the clerk, convinced that if she hadn't said anything, neither her nor Gibbs would have noticed. She was so preoccupied; she didn't even notice the fact that Gibbs was moving closer, until she had his soft, warm lips on hers.

Her eyes widened in shock, though only momentarily, a second later they had drifted shut as it was impossible to ignore how good it felt. Her breath was stuck in her throat and she was frozen in her position, unable to do anything except go on with the kiss. He kissed her tenderly, almost hesitating at first, and she thought he was just going to kiss her quickly, because he had to, but when she felt his tongue stroke against her lower lip, she was surprised, and at the same time, she wasn't. Unwilling as well as willing to deepen their kiss.

With the little strength and composure she could muster up, she lifted her hand and pushed him away, before he could convince her lips apart. She didn't spare him or the clerk a glance as she stormed out of the coffee shop.

Well outside she exhaled the breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding, the breath turning into steam in the cool winter's night air. This was a disaster. She had enjoyed it far more than she should have, and it was that that worried her. She knew she couldn't help the way her heart rate quickened or how she got weak in her knees when he was close, but those had been things she had been able to fight, been forced to fight. She knew she still loved him, she always had and always would, that was just the way it was. She couldn't help who she loved, she was not supposed to. And she couldn't deny her hot desire for him, but still…her position as his boss prevented her from getting involved with him again.

The little bell tingled and announced that someone had opened the door, and she knew without looking it was Gibbs.

"Jen?" His voice came. Low, and slightly husky. She stubbornly kept her gaze lowered; suddenly realizing she was feeling a lot more emotional than she should.

"Jenny," He said her name again and still she refused to acknowledge him.

The snow was still falling silently around them and he had no idea what to say, how to explain himself. He wasn't going to say he was sorry. First of all because he didn't believe in using that word, and second of all, he wasn't sure he was sorry for what he had done, or tried to do. In fact, he wasn't sorry at all. But this was not the reaction he'd expected from her. Because from the way he'd seen things, she missed his company just as much as he did. The dinners they had shared together recently, that had really tested his self-control and patience. The way her face lit up when he came and the way her eyes locked with his over dessert had been enough to cause a certain feeling to erupt in his lower abdomen. And the knowing smile and the almost sad and regretful look she sent him as he left were enough to convince him she was experiencing similar feelings.

"Jenny." He repeated, reaching out to brush his hand against hers, feeling how cold it was, he tucked it more firmly into his.

"I just don't know, Jethro." She mumbled, still keeping her eyes away from his. "I hadn't quite expected you to…" She swallowed and left the rest of the sentence unspoken, but he understood.

"Can you blame a guy for wanting to kiss you?" He said with a hint of a smile and a glimmer in his eye.

She gave him a quick look, then stared out into the snowfall again, not at all sure what to say.

Gibbs couldn't take his eyes off of her. The faint blush creeping up on her cheeks, he wondered if it was because of the cold or because she was embarrassed for what happened in there, he wasn't sure.

He realized her hand was still enveloped in his, and he took that as a good sign – she wasn't completely unaffected by the kiss, after all. He wasn't sure what to do, he was sure of what he _wanted _to do, but not at all sure what he _should_ do.

She turned her head, gazing – almost shyly – up at him. He couldn't hold back the smile, right now she looked nothing like the tough Director she usually was. The shy look, her blushing cheeks and the hair in careless curls just made her look so…sweet.

He had to struggle hard against the impulse to reach out to her, to kiss her again. But instead he just smiled and brought his coffee cup to his lips and drank slowly – just to keep himself occupied.

Jen seemed to be fighting an internal battle of her own too. If she should give in to her feelings or not. She knew either choice would be stupid, but deep down in her heart, she knew she did not want to spend another Christmas alone.

She reached a decision and grabbed his hand more firmly, ignoring the fact that he flinched slightly, knowing it was just because he probably hadn't seen that coming, and started to drag him up the sidewalk.

"Come with me." She just said for he could ask where they were going. He didn't reply, just followed her obediently.

_Maybe they'll be an open door  
Maybe the star that's shown before will shine once more  
_

He frowned as they approached the cemetery.

"Jen…what are we doing here?" He asked when she dragged him through the gate.

"We're here to see someone." She said, her voice low, just a whisper. He had no doubt this was where she was going to go when he'd showed up at her house earlier.

He looked around in the deserted graveyard. The headstones were all covered in a thick layer of snow, in front of some stones family members had scraped off some snow and lit candles, or placed out Christmas wreaths.

Her hand was still tucked into his as she pulled him further down the path.

"I come here every year on Christmas Eve." She said as she turned to the right between two rows of headstones.

"And who do you come here to see?" He asked.

She pulled to a stop in front of a headstone with a candle lit on the ground before it.

Jen looked sadly at the inscription.

"My father."

His gaze skimmed the headstone, reading the name carved in the stone. He swallowed. Jen had never spoken to him about her father before. He hadn't known he was dead. He squeezed Jen's hand gently, but let her go as she moved forward to clear some snow off from around the candle. He watched her frozen fingertips caress the smooth surface of the stone and saw her bend her head in something that might well be a silent prayer, even though he knew Jen wasn't religious. He figured in moments like this, you just wanted to believe, believe that your loved one was somewhere safe.

It was the same with Christmas. Even though he was a grown, rational man, there was a part of him that wanted to believe in Christmas miracles, happiness and even Santa Claus. Though, he hadn't had any of those feelings since Shannon and Kelly had died. His last Christmas with them had been the last time he'd truly believed in the joys of Christmas.

He had deliberately backed away to allow her some alone-time with her father. But she turned around to look at him.

"Come to me." She whispered, but he remained in his place.

"No, just take your time." He said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb her moment with her father.

"I want you to come. Otherwise I wouldn't have taken you here." She assured him and held out her hand for him to take it. He suddenly realized what it meant that she had brought him here, how much it meant to her that he was there, with her. He took it and stepped up beside her, feeling slightly awkward in the moment.

"Dad, this is Jethro. I wish you could have met him. I think you'd like him. I know I do." Jen said and he suddenly felt all warm inside at her last words. He felt Jen's hand shiver slightly in his. He wondered if it was for the cold or because she was embarrassed of what she'd just said.

"You have a very special daughter, sir. You should be proud of her." He said and felt Jen's head tilt upwards. He looked down and met her gaze. A charming blush was still grazing her cheeks and he couldn't keep his hands to himself and reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear, and then gently gathering up her hair in his hand. Snowflakes fell around them and settled onto the red hairs, glistening there like white diamonds.

_And maybe this Christmas will find us at last  
In heavenly peace  
Grieve for the least  
For the love we've been shown in the past_

Her green eyes were large, sparkling with life, her red lips slightly parted. He had unconsciously shifted so he was standing opposite her. He grabbed her two small, frozen hands in his and pressed them to his chest in an attempt at warming them up. The world around them seemed to have gone still, as though time had stopped and they were the only ones existing.

He watched her eyes flutter close, her head tilting upwards, toward him. Her lips were looking soft and inviting. She pulled one of her hands from his hold and slipped it around his neck, her cold fingers sending threads of ice down his spine, quickly followed by tendrils of heat as her fingers caressed his skin.

She blinked her eyes open and stared deeply into his, he raised his hands to cup her cheek. Her eyelids drifted shut again as his thumb softly slipped over her lips. Then he gradually leaned closer, his eyes still open, wanting to watch her face coming closer, until her face turned into a blur and he felt her warm sweet breath against his lips. Her hand tugged harder at his neck, and he instantly closed the distance between them. Bringing his lips down onto hers, her hand dragged up through his hair, gently raking her fingers through it. He kissed her slowly; as though it was the first time he did it and wanted to get acquainted with her lips and mouth. He realized he remembered everything about her that he thought time had erased. Remembering every corner and crevice of her mouth. Remembering how she always used to tease him with her tongue. Remembering how her quiet moans would always seep into him, making him unsure if it was her or him that released the sound.

When he pulled away, she kept her eyes closed for a long time, her lips slightly parted, her breath turning into steam in the cold winter's night. He slipped his thumb over the roses on her cheeks. Her eyelids flickered open. A snowflake settled in her dark eyelashes. Another landed under her eye, instantly melting and making it look like a tear. He brushed his thumb over it, wiping it away.

"I'm cold." She said in a low and husky voice. He nodded.

"I'll walk you home." He said and she turned her head to her father's grave. Watching in silence how the snow softly descended upon the stone.

"Merry Christmas dad." She said with a sad smile. Gibbs looked down at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. He lifted his gaze to Jasper Shepard's grave.

"Don't worry sir, I'll keep her safe." He promised and looked down to meet Jen's eyes. "And warm." He dropped a kiss to her head.

The left the graveyard in silence. Gibbs' arm around her was heavy and safe. She snuggled into his coat and let his familiar and soothing smell wrap around her, filling her with a sense of peace and contentment she hadn't felt in a long time. She decided to block out the real world, right now she needed this; needed his touch like she needed oxygen. She wanted to think that when the holiday ended, she would fall headfirst back into the real world, the world where she was the Director and he was her agent, where she buried her feelings deep inside herself. But at the same time, she knew it wasn't going to be like that. That in the end, she wouldn't let go of him this time, and neither would he. This was a decision with no turning back. And she'd known that all along. Maybe he was worth putting her career on the line for. In the end, it was him who made her happy, not the sign on her door that said 'Director'.

Neither of them said a word during their walk back to her house. He lingered on her front porch as she unlocked the door, uncertain what was going to happen next. Light spilled out over the newly fallen snow at his feet when she'd flicked on the lights.

He looked up and found her gazing back at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in an expression he knew very well. She was most likely contemplating whether she should invite him in or not.

"Come inside." She finally said, nodding her head in direction of the warm interior of her house. He was quick to comply.

"Want a drink?" She asked over her shoulder as she walked off toward the study as he struggled out of his coat.

"Yeah, sure." He answered and quickly followed her. She stood with her back to him as she poured two glasses of bourbon, and he decided to check out the Christmas tree glistening in the corner. He smiled, though the lack of presents underneath the tree quickly made his smile fade, reminding him she was just as lonely as he was. And especially at this time of the year, the loneliness seemed even more suffocating. He felt her presence behind him even before she tapped his shoulder, and turned around smiling.

"Nice tree." He said, his fingers brushing hers as he took the glass from her hand. He couldn't ignore the current of electricity that went through him at the touch. Jen looked over his shoulder at the tree.

"That's my mom's old Christmas ornaments." She said.

"Yeah…" He said thoughtfully and moved to stand beside her and regarded her Christmas tree.

"Though… I think something is missing…" He said and tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile. Jen frowned at him.

"What's that?"

The smile growing wider on his face, he reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a small, neatly wrapped package with a tiny bow on it. He bent down to leave it on the rug under the tree.

"Jethro, you already got me a Christmas present." She argued, staring at the wrapped gift lying in its loneliness underneath her tree. It looked almost even more depressing than when it had been no presents there at all.

"What, that?" He said, nodding toward the now open bottle of Bourbon on her desk. She nodded.

"Nah, that wasn't your real gift." He said and winked at her.

"Well, that looks pathetic." She said with a gesture toward the single present under the tree. He watched as she sauntered off toward the desk, rummaged through one of the drawers, heard her shut it and saw her straightening up and walking back to him. In her hands she was holding a present wrapped in silver paper with an ice blue bow on it. She bent down and placed it on the rug next to the other.

"You didn't have to get me anything." He protested but she merely raised one eyebrow incredulously. She said nothing as she turned her back to him and went over to the mantelpiece, lighting the candles there and then bending down to pile some new logs in the fireplace. In a few moments a fire was cracking nicely, embers flying and a warm golden light and comfortable heat spreading through the room.

Jen didn't notice he had walked up behind her, until his hand covered hers holding the poker, making her release it and it fell to the floor with a soft clatter. She looked over her shoulder, finding his face just inches away. His body pressed up against her back. His breath on her neck, giving her goosebumps. His hand slipping down to rest on her hip.

"Jenny…" He whispered hotly against her ear. She spun around in his arms so quickly all he saw was a blur of red before he found a pair of dark green eyes staring into his face.

"Jethro." She whispered back, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. "I don't want to be alone anymore." She breathed, bringing her face closer to his, her nose rubbing against his in an affective way.

"Me neither, Jen." He replied, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her. Heat, passion and desire flooded her veins as she backed him away from the fire. Everything she though she'd forgotten about him came back in powerful waves. His taste, his scent. The exact shade of dark blue that took over the usual ice blue in his eyes. How fast his fingers could unbutton a blouse. The soft silk garment whirled to the floor in a pool of green.

His eyes skimmed down her bared stomach, the flickering fire making the shadows dance across her skin. She slipped her fingers into his belt loops, pulling him flush against her. She felt the increased beating of his heart. He lowered his head and dropped sweet kisses onto her shoulders and she had to bite down on her lip to keep herself from moaning out loud. His hands roamed up and down her exposed back, causing heat to rise within her and her heart rate picking up a notch. But there was no need to rush, she wanted – needed – slow, and passionate.

He seemed to be thinking the same, his fingers trailing down her flat stomach, so slowly, teasing. Wanting to rediscover every curve, every muscle, every pore of her body.

His jacket fell to the floor, shortly followed by his shirt. His arms wound tightly around her petite body, his lips leaving kisses on every part of exposed skin he could reach. Her hand clutched at his neck, her eyes were closed as she let herself get lost in his touch. She pushed herself harder into his naked chest, needing to feel his skin against hers.

Still kissing – throats, shoulders, mouths – he carefully lowered her onto the floor. The rug scraping at her back, but she didn't notice. All she felt was the weight and warmth of his body on top of hers. He worshipped her upper body – every inch of skin he could reach. He pinned her hands to the floor above her head, and though she fought his hold with her growing impatience, he wouldn't relent.

"Jethro…" She panted as his mouth attacked her neck. She lifted her still covered hips up to rub against his. He got the message, and slipped his other hand down her chest between her breasts, brushing down her stomach until he reached the button on her pants.

Soon, two pairs of pants were thrown carelessly across the floor. Their bodied tightly intertwined on the rug. There were hands trailing skin, mouths leaving no place unkissed, hearts beating dangerously fast.

There was a fire burning in the corner. There was a different fire burning within them, between them. Setting their hearts and bodies on fire and they both gave into it, letting their fiery love guide them and he slipped her lace panties off her legs.

He moved slowly, sensually, inside her, her legs wrapping tightly around him, trying to bring him closer, even though he was as close as he could get, it didn't seem near enough. It was like she melted into him. She felt his heart as if it was her own, had his breath flooding her lungs as if it was her own, wasn't sure of the edges of her own body, where she ended and he started.

His fingers laced through hers and squeezed, his lips crashing onto hers and she felt as though her whole body imploded and an incredible and unexplainable feeling of joy filled her up.

He lay heavily on top of her, his face buried in her hair and inhaling the sweet scent that was uniquely hers, feeling as though he'd finally found his way home.

They lay on the rug together – still tightly intertwined – in silence, both of them reveling in the feelings flooding them. He looked into her face and saw what she'd never say out loud, how much he meant to her and how much she willed him to stay with her. He knew she could read the same things off his face. Words had never been needed in their relationship, they understood perfectly well what they meant, but couldn't bring themselves to say out loud.

She couldn't stop a protesting groan to escape her as he moved off the floor, smirking at the sound. He walked over to the armchair and fetched a blanket, draping it over their bodies on the rug. She snuggled into him, her arm draped across his stomach, his around her, holding her close. He kissed her head, watching her face glow in the lights from the Christmas tree. She was as beautiful as ever, and she was his.

Later she sat next to the Christmas tree, wearing nothing but his shirt and her legs folded under her. She reached out her hand and picked up her Christmas present. He was still lying under the blanket, propped up on his elbow and watched her flip the present in her hands with a smile on his face.

"It's not Christmas Day yet, Jen." He said with a smirk when she tugged at the paper. Out in the hallway, they heard a clock strike. She smiled as she counted to twelve.

"It is now." She said and moved to straddle his waist. She placed both their presents on the floor next to them. He settled his hands on her hips, her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Merry Christmas Jethro." She whispered.

He reached up his hand to brush a wisp of hair behind her ear.

"Merry Christmas Jen." He replied.

She bent down; with the knowledge she would no more be spending another Christmas alone, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

_Maybe this Christmas will mean something more  
Maybe this year  
Love will appear  
Deeper than ever before_

_Maybe this Christmas_

**The End**


End file.
